


the ceiling is a blank slate

by abeyance



Series: glass seat homes [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: But i couldnt resist, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, MJ - Freeform, Michelle Jones - Freeform, Peter is a Little Shit, and irresponisble, i know 58820852 people have done this, maybe alil idk yet, mj finds out peter is spiderman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-06 19:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11606997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeyance/pseuds/abeyance
Summary: When a laptop is forgotten at the Decathalon meeting, MJ is forced to take it home before no one who shouldn't do. But when she looks through picture and video folders for an identity of the owner, more than one is found.Or: MJ finds Peter's vigilante life from videos on his laptop of his first Avengers mission.





	1. the night

_This_ is why she avoided human interaction.

Besides their tendency to be annoying, bunny slutted _twats,_ the smartest could still qualify to be the most irresponsible freaks she came to the unenjoyable fate to meet.

Seriously, how much thoughtless space can a brain on the Decathalon team have room for to forget a laptop?

Enough, it seems, as it’s laid in front of her on her mattress, nothing more than just extra, pain in the ass weight she had to carry home. Of course, it was the only day out of, well, ever, that her phone was dead and her dad had taken her charger to work; therefore, she would not be able to deal with this the easy way and simply _ask_ which idiot decided to leave it.

MJ sighed, letting air escape from her lips to blow some of her mask of hair out of her face, adjusted her criss-cross position and opened the screen. Luckily but stupidly enough, the home screen greeted her instead of a login screen. She smirked nevertheless her low hope of hacking skills coming into use.

After mindlessly searching everywhere for a name, MJ must give her loser one thing; he or she does know how to hide identity. There was no name anywhere, and although the search history was deleted, the only thing she managed to get from the ‘Recently Deleted’ tab was links to videos of that spider dude going around the streets. Rules out Flash. The videos are just too much attention on another individual he would be able to muster. When MJ just decided the person would just have to wait for their precious no-name laptop back, her aimless clicking brought up something that caught her attention. _Pictures and Videos._

Well, no shit. She bit her lip in punishment for not thinking of it sooner and leaned forward so her head would rest on her hand.

MJ clicked on the folder. The tab was empty all but for one thing, which was yet another folder, this one labeled ‘Untitled’. She clicked on that one, which led her to the following replica, and repeated the process enough times to make sure the thing wasn't glitching. Sure enough, she was answered when she was met with row and rows of loading pictures or videos. Impatient, MJ clicked on a random one, hoping it would carry some sort of indication of the owner.

And then Peter Parker’s face filled the screen.

Well, that was easier than she expected. Although MJ never thought of him as much of a nerd to be watching endless videos of the spider freak, she turned over her shoulder to see the home phone on her dresser. Too far. Besides, Peter’s probably too ‘crazy busy’ at his internship to realize his laptop is gone, much less answer an unknown number. Why not entertain herself?

She barely turned back in time before Peter's voice boomed from the video, enough for MJ to be startled and turn down the volume. She only got out a whole mix of “It was _amazing_ !” and something about the infamous Mr. Stark and running or jumping and _holy shit did he just do a backflip to get the door?_

And then a man, one she had _never_ pictured to be his father, basically told him to keep it down. Even with the slight confusion in her mind of where the fuck he was, she found a hint of amusement in his excitable state.

But confusion took over and her curiosity brought her to another, this time, with him in a car. With Mr. Stark. Well, she guessed, at least the _possibility_ of his Stark internship has been increased, and she sort of understood the first video she watched, which likely was the night after his first day. But then, _‘retreat’?_ In sarcastic quotes? Okay, now she was going to bust the druggie.

MJ clicked on another random one, earlier than the second so she may get a simple look into his ‘retreat’.

 _“Okay, Peter. You got this, you got this.”_  The video opened with Peter in some sort of, what kind of retreat was this where he had to dress like an arctic swimmer?

Before MJ could ask herself, his father asked for her. “ _What the Hell are you wearing?”_

The camera panned up and down Arctic-Swimmer-Wannabe’s outfit. “ _It’s my suit.”_

_“Where's the case.”_

_“What case?”_ the clip cut to Arctic-Swimmer-Wannabe following his dad. _"Hey C'mon man- What? I thought that was a closet. This is still my room?”_  She didn't think he could get anymore dorkier than how he was with Liz. it was always courteous. Nevertheless, this proved her wrong; but it wasn't as painful. _“Woah, ok my room is_ way _bigger than I thought.”_ His father in the background was just telling him please and something she couldn't pick up. _“Alright, alright look I found the case.”_ and he did actually, which was silver and big and overall something one would pick off a movie set regarding a money exchange. Peter picked up a note and read the text, _A minor upgrade._

He unlatched the locks and it opened and _oh._

She didn't even need to wait for the part where his dad told him to put it on - Happy? He calls his dad happy? Oh, _that's_ bait. That's…

Everything just _clicked_. And it was so obvious that she was surprised she hasn't even called him out on it yet - even on accident. But that's where her surprise ended. She smirked, shook her head and continued to the next video. And the next. And the next. And then it was over, nothing else but random pictures of everyone on their Decathlon team, some notes, lego things... nothing surprising. Her eyes started to droop and she closed Peter’s laptop.it found its way to her dresser as MJ figured it would be considerable to not panic peter too much, assuming he was home, even after his nightly stroll as a spider dude.

She picked up the house phone and looked at the dials. Which one was he again? Going with the one that was two numbers off from her mother, she put the phone to her ear.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

“Hey, this is Ned. who are you?” MJ rolled her eyes.

“Dick-wad, its MJ. Give me Peter’s number.” after a rambling of protests and that she should be nicer when asking for things, she was given his digits.

Five rings.

“H-Hello?” Rustling was in the background, but the voice was the same one she spent listening to for endless videos.

“Hey, loser. You forgot your laptop at the meeting. I got it.” Everything silenced in his end but a small noise that she would think he made as he sat down somewhere.

“MJ. Hi.”

“Did you hear me? Or do you need ears along with a new credibility lever.”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard you. Um, did you get a new phone? This number isn't in my contacts -”

“Nope. Night.” and with that, she hung up.

 

\----

 

The ceiling looked like a book that night.

Sometimes it was a number line, sometimes the world. Sometimes a poisonous tree frog’s brain. But tonight, it was a simple book.

Of every single thing only she had witnessed this spider mutant do. Just what she'd seen herself because fuck rumors and the news. Any kind. Especially the school morning news.

She was across the street when he stole a bike from a reckless biker, the one that knocked into her and her books as she had made way outside the library for maybe twenty times by then.

And when he saved her team from that slave-built-tower - despite almost being shot.

She just happened to look out her window to see a ferry cut in half, but still breaking the laws of gravity no doubt due to the same freak.

And although she never really thought of anyone else, picturing Peter was really, really hard.

She's always been suspicious of him, leaving early, coming late, maybe not coming at all. But she was sure he was in a drug dealing mafia or something. Not _this_.

Although, the more she thought, the more she stared, the more she was able to conjure his face under the mask, he ears making prominent dents at the sides. And his heart in the spandex shit. High tech spandex shit, but spandex shit.

And thinking every reason why it no doubt was him and every stupid thing he's done because of it just made her smirk and shake her head. Because the more she imagined, the more she knew that she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, readers! thank you a lot for taking the time to read this, I hope it wasn't wasted! this is my first work in the fandom, bound to be followed by countless more. I love this MJ and Peter dynamic more than any other version.
> 
> Keep this in mind;
> 
> -I am well aware Happy is NOT Peter's father, and that will be addressed in the next part.
> 
> -the next part will hopefully be up by this time in twenty-four hours and will consist of MJ actually addressing her discovery to Peter. it will be in his POV
> 
> That's it for this part! please leave love and reviews if I deserve it, so ill be able to know what this fandom will want when it comes to writing fanfic. i plan to write plenty in the future, but i want it as enjoyable for readers as for myself.


	2. the day

That morning, Peter was lighter on his feet while riding the bus to school. Although his usual state was pleasant compared to other students, the extra couple hours of sleep put him in a jumpy state. His usual sleeping habit of staying up on his laptop until he couldn't hold his eyes open was interrupted the night before when he was without a distraction for the night. 

And, no, this time it wasn't because May went to check on him sleeping just to see the screen in front of his face. 

This time, he was in such a hurry to get out of there, so excited to test the new settings Mr. Stark limited him to, that he forgot his laptop right on the table in front of him.

Nice going, Parker. Smooth. Real, real smooth.

And of course it was none other than  _ MJ  _  who had picked it up, which, don't get him wrong, he'd rather her than a pawner, but the price of endless future torment did not seem enjoyable.

The bus jolted forward, the silent reminder of it being his stop, in which Peter tucked his phone away and exited the bus between a few morning greetings. He continued on his everyday-commute; walk straight two blocks, turn left. Pass the windows with the TVs, usually filled with the latest sight of his vigilante self (And yes, his most recent heroic act of stopping that mugger last night, helping the cat from the ledge, it was was all there). And then cross the str -

“Morning, loser.” That nickname was exclusively his, by the exclusive giver-of-said-nicknames voice. Meaning he was the only one who that would be directed to, meaning MJ was behind him, meaning he was turning around. Right into a man suited for some career he was off to.

“Watch where you’re going, boy.” He was told and muttered an apology before looking at the girl in front of him.

“And your stuff, dingoes,” She told Peter, holding his laptop out to him. He stared at it for a second before hurriedly taking it and stuffing it into his bag. 

“Ah, thanks,” Peter smiled, looking up to MJ. She gave him her signature smirk-smile in return. “Really ‘preciate it.” Her answer was a shrug after a pause. MJ started to cross the street, the timer of when to walk at fifteen seconds. Peter followed her uncertain of what he was to do.

By the time he caught up with her, MJ had a book opened. She dodged people, lamp posts. Her state pretty much screamed,  _ ‘if I want to have a conversation, I'll be the one who starts it’ _ . Peter looked ahead, not really knowing what he'd want to say anyway.

It wasn't until the school was within twenty feet that she looked up from her book, an unreadable yet a hint of confusion expression written across her face. MJ turned to Peter, and the action made him do the same, a little startled. 

“What did you do last night without your laptop?” her eyebrow rose. “Must've been hella boring, I see you on it at school so much.” It took him a moment to respond.

Leaving school the day before, his backpack  _ did _ feel lighter than the normal weight. It hadn't been until he went to take his costume out that he realized his laptop wasn't in there, and although a little worried about where it might be, he was happy there wouldn't be any distractions. He stayed out a tad later that night. It wasn't until around one that he realized nothing was going to happen, that most people were sleeping, as he should have been. So that's when he headed home.

“Oh, you know...School work and...stuff.” Peter set his focus ahead. Beside him, MJ kept her eyes on him.

“We didn’t have any readings,” She replied.

“Hm?”

“I'm in every class with you, P. All of our work is due online this week,” Peter looked at the ground.  _ Why is she drilling him? _

“So? Maybe I wanna...I don't know, read up on -” He looked over to the first kid holding a textbook in his sight and read the title. “Physics eccentricity.” 

When Peter looked back at MJ, she was still looking at him. Her lips formed a thin line and her eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. “Mhmm.” With a small nod of her head, she glanced past him and then returned to her book. This time, Peter ignored her  _ ‘If I want to have a conversation, I'll be the one who starts it’  _ imperative. 

“What? You don't believe me?” MJ gazed in front of her.

“Belief is a myth. It’s only having trust of the truth.” she shrugged. “I'll trust you. But you aren't saying the whole truth.” MJ noticed his countenance, which was more or less a blank, terrified confusion. “Chill, Double-P. And hold your stuff.” And with that, Michelle walked away with her nose returned to her book.

When Peter went to call after her, he couldn’t find the name. It was weird; he's known her as Michelle for so many years, but calling MJ Michelle didn't feel like he was calling  _ her. _ Sure, it stuck, rolled off the tongue easily, but just didn't match.

He thought it maybe was the stereotype. Maybe out there somewhere, the name Michelle always gave the soul it was labeled to an outgoing fate, a bold person that stuck out. And he thought, maybe, that the name didn't match this girl because she  _ did _ stand out, she  _ was  _ outgoing. But instead of the brightness, the Michelles gave off every day, the light that shined against more light, claiming them to be the bold, pick-out-of-the-crowd souls, she brought the opposite. She brought the darkness in the light days, the contrast between night and day. The outgoing personality went to her mind, where thoughts that were conjured were unique ones. She followed the stereotype. She was bold, outgoing. But the part where she went wrong was the fact that she went at it differently, to have that contrast, and the name no longer fits her box.

So the solution? Make the name bolder.

_ MJ. _

Sharp. No  _ shh _ in the pronunciation. In fact, the pronunciation didn't even roll off the tongue easily. Even the effort into  _ saying  _ the name; it gave you the heads up to what you're in for. Because a person like MJ; mysterious, solitary individuals, they needed effort, maybe more than some, for their huge boxes to open. Unlike most, who have walls covering walls, each getting knocked down to reveal something else about that person or animal or mutant-vigilante-spider-dude. because with some people its walls, either strong or fragile, and others have doors; simple, locked doors, where trust is needed for the key to be passed. And once the door is unlocked there's a room, big or small, that can give every inch of a person away. All of their mysteries in front of you. All is needed by that person the room is owned by is trust of another. And MJ is one of those people.

And that's what Peter thought that night, not even bothering to go about the neighborhood. Hell, he had homework.

But after, as Peter stared at the bottom of his top bunk, pretending it was the ceiling, he tried to imagine it. MJ’s room. If it was colorful; if it held answers. Because for some reason, he had a feeling she had two. A foyer. She would be the person to have a foyer. Where she let most people in. the people who gave her the time of day sometimes. 

But foyers were usually small. At Least, compared to others rooms in the residence. Meaning she would run out of room someday, and that day she would have to let someone in. and all of her taunting and nicknames and odd but relevant comments may make sense, may all click.

Maybe her suspicion. 

Of what, Peter did not know. Besides disappearances, she had no reason to suspect his second lifestyle. The only time he's crossed her was at the monument, which shouldn't of given her indication of who was under the mask.

Perhaps the drilling that morning, the side glances that afternoon, it was all a big idea she was starting. He wouldn't be able to guess what, probably not ever, but he'd been careful. There's no way that someone would be able to know. Even MJ, who knew he'd quit band and robotics club when he had kept it private.

Unless he ever got the key, he probably would never know.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo I may have lied. I was planning on this to be a simple two parter, one MJ discovering and the second addressing Peter, but I guess that's not how my mind works. I do think it needed something in between as I look back on it because MJ just coming up to Peter at school going all "hey I know ur spidey boy" was a lil too bland in my case. 
> 
> so yea, sorry for the filler chapter. ESPECIALLY the word vomit. god, SO MUCH. I apologize. that happens sometimes when I get an idea, so sorry. notably the Michelles out there. I swear I have nothing against your name. words just came and stayed. please don't hate me. please.
> 
> also, I plan to get the last part out hopefully by morning. there ill address that I know happy is in fact not Peter's dad. the problem with this chapter is that I had a plot, with no idea to go at it, so then I let it flow until I got to the hmm should she tell him part. but we're good. A+. clear idea now.
> 
> (thank you for all the feedback, too! if it wasnt without you i wouldnt have been encouraged to post this fast. keep going, people!)
> 
>  
> 
> DROP SOME PROMPTS IN MY TUMBLR BOX @ THESAVIORJONES!!


	3. the noon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the feedback! really appreciated.

“Hey, Spidey.”

 

Peter’s blood ran cold, yet he burned _everywhere_.

Beside him, Ned gasped and looked behind him. “Dude, _what?_ " He searched Peter’s face, which was focused on nothing but the ground as he stood, frozen. “Since when has _Michelle_ known?!”

“She _doesn’t,”_ Peter looked over his shoulder to see MJ turning into another hallway. Her face was in the book open in her hands and _dammit_ , her dark curls hid any sort of expression she had played on her face.

“Well, why else would she be calling you -” Ned glanced around before leaning closer to Peter. “ _Spidey?!_ ”

“You think I know?!”  Peter whispered harshly back. They rounded a corner to go to the next hallway where Peter took a deep breath. “Look, maybe we just - I don't know, misinterpreted. Maybe she was saying hi to her friend named...Sammy. There’s a Sammy in this school.”

“Michelle doesn’t have friends,” Ned replied dully. Peter gave his friend a look with his mouth in a thin line. It was something he’s been using lately, ever since Ned has been going at it with the whole ‘MJ doesn’t have friends’ ordeal. Because, to MJ, they were her friends. Therefore they should act like it. Not like he minded it at all. “Look, dude.” Peter sighed and watched a kid’s backpack string swing as he walked a safe distance in front of he and ned. "If she knows, we need to know if _and_ why she does. Before the whole school does.”

Peter scoffed. “Like it would interest MJ to tell everyone Peter Parker’s secret.” Ned’s _‘you never know’_ face made him second guess, however. He scratched behind his ear and turned into his homeroom.

 

\----

 

She loved this.

The book in front of her, yes. This new story had her hooked and she was only in the third chapter. But beyond that - literally - she looked over the rim to see Peter Parker opposite of her. His attempt of concealed worry crossed his face and heated his ears, the extra adrenaline making the tips of his finger tips drum.

She really set him off and _loved it_.

Who knew a little change in nicknames can benefit so much for one’s own amusement, yet throw the other’s balance of life over the edge just as much? It wasn't like the nickname was mean or anything. It was something everyone called him, just didn't know they were calling _him,_ Peter Parker that.

The night before, she was antsy with the secret. She didn't know what to do now that her observations had been proven correct. Of course, she was not going to tell anyone. That would just be a dick move. However, she did want _someone to_ know she knew. The ending decision being Parker himself was going to be both rational and entertaining. She wouldn't start rumors of any kind, and freak him out. Perfect.

Anyways, wouldn’t it be fair, too? He subconsciously picked her to know the big classified reveal, completing the circle is just civil.

But _how_ she was to tell him, well, there was no right thing to follow there. That means that part is freestyle.

 

\----

 

She was right across from him, and Peter has never felt more intimidated by MJ in his life.

There has been room for those times, too. Interrupting her reading is never really your best bet if you were planning on, you know, not dying in the hands of an emotionally detached teenager.

And these small looks she’d been giving him for the past ten minutes assured him a certain _something_. Maybe not death, but surely an event worse than it.

His finger tips became numb as the excessive drumming on the surface repeated over and over. But he couldn't help it; the sound was the only thing that could semi-block every single thought of the girl across from him from his head. Because, judging how little he actually knew about her besides what was obvious, she could be a spy. Or stimulation. _Someone that would make him out himself on accident._

His thoughts cut off as a slight slam vibrated through the table. Peter removed his eyes from his fidgeting fingers to see MJ’s book closed with her elbows resting on each side of it. His eyes scanned up to her face, which starred back in the same bored expression she sported around the clock.

It was a few seconds before either spoke.

"I don't know what presentation you’re freaking’ out over, but you need to chill. It's pissing me off." He didn't respond back. He couldn't. Because every single thing that was lined up on his tongue were questions behind questions, no room for answers. Only questions about her secret. To her door.

Instead, Peter ran a hand through his hair and sorta out everything in his mind.

“Just thinking. Sorry that it's traveling.”

“Fix it.I can't concentrate between your aura and one-man-band you have going on,” MJ opened her book back up, this time the cover flat on the table.

His fingers stopped drumming. The only _way_ to fix it was asking her. But simply asking her would assure she either knew or would find out. _Dammit, logics._

 

\--

 

At lunch, Peter found it more frightening that  Michelle _wasn't_ there as opposed to what sense of mind hed be in if she were. He had not a clue where she was, and thinking that ned would reassure him about the situation was a fool’s play. If anything, ned was worse at this than Peter.

“Do you think you might’ve sent a text to her instead of me?” Ned started laying out ideas. “Or maybe she saw you changing in an alley," He added.

“ _Ned,”_ Peter replied in a harsh whisper. It was a silent telling of the statement, _‘the only thing you’re helping me with is how low my level of comfort is.’_

This girl was going to kill him.

\--

 

Spider-Man stayed in that night.

 

\--

Aunt May became suspicious as soon as she walked in to see Peter watching TV in the living room for the third day in a row. Usually, he wasn't back until she had started dinner. The few times he was, it meant he was in his room doing homework.

It wasn't until dinner that she brought it up.

“So, is Spider-Man taking some vacation days?” Peter drew attention away from playing with his food, looking at her through his eyelashes.

Peter sighed. "I’m laying low for some time.” A silence followed.

“Who's supposed to be saving Queens’ bike thieves?”

"I don't think it would be as cool if people started finding out its a teenager under the mask.”

“Ah, so Spider-Man's identity feels fragile this week.”

“As breakable as an in-adhesive lego structure.”  He ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, who maybe knockin’ down that wall?” Understanding he may not have the appetite, Aunt May started to collect their dishes.

“This girl from school. We have a lot of classes together,” Peter informed. He pushed in his chair as he walked to the sink to help with the dishes.

“She a friend?” Aunt May emptied his pasta into a tupperware. Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he searched for a response.

"I don't really know, actually," He started. “She's always kind of on the sidelines, but never not around. Doesn't have a group she's with.”

“So she’s independent. How, then, do you think she knows?” May looked up at Peter through her glasses. He kept his eyes focused in front of him. He thought about the time she knew what clubs he had quit before anyone else did.

“Michelle is very...attentive. Can know things about someone when that person doesn't know her name. She can put puzzles of lives together like that.” He snapped his fingers for the emphasis.

“Sounds like she has her own superpower," She grabbed a stack of dishes to put away.

Peter thought of the mystery that was Michelle. Her books, always something odd or unfamiliar. The fact that she could read those book with full indication of what is taking place around her. How she finds time to go to detention for her own amusement, or how well she can play off her wardrobe. The fact that no one bothers her, despite the vibe entitled nothing other than _‘loner’_ or _‘freak._ ’ And yet there something that stood about her that drew the right attention.

“Yeah,” Peter responded. “Maybe.” The air stayed still for a moment or so following. Nothing but the run of the faucet or clang of the dishes and utensils. That is, until, May placed one hand on the rim of the counter, facing  Peter. He looked at her before adjusting his stance to face his Aunt, who was now in _get ready for a lecture_ mode; outside hand on her hip, inside foot crossed over the other. Her slight raise of her eyebrow. Yep, he was in for a sundae with whipped cream and a cherry. Maybe some rainbow sprinkles.

“So what are you going to do about it?" Her little shake of her head told him the statement was not rhetorical.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno." Her hard gaze told him that was not the correct response. He sighed, threw down his dish towel, and walked around her. “Well, what am I supposed to do? If I ask if she knows, she finds out either way. It'll be the last piece if she didn't put it together. But if she does, there… there's bound to be some blackmail or _something_ involved.” He collapsed into a chair from the table. May’s footsteps followed between Peter's deep breaths.

“So what's that doing that is stopping Spider-Man from saving the neighborhood?" She kneeled in front of him.

"I don't know, I just - what's a good hero if he can't even hide his identity?”  Peter put his face into his hands.

“A great one, actually,” May replied after a beat.

“May, now is not the time for false encouragement -”

“No, I know, Peter. This isn't encouragement," She lightly pulled on his arms to silently tell him to look at her. He did. “This is advice. True, based on events, advice.” Peter let out a breath that flopped his hair around his forehead as he looked at his knees. “Every hero faces challenges. Who knows what they are; that's for themselves to fill in those blanks. But you,” Peter found her eyes. "I know you. And your secret. And that your challenge is knowing when to help.

“You are always sneaking out, always racing through the day until it's time for Spider-Man to come out. You _aren't enjoying life._ And this girl, she is noticing that. She’s finding how you aren't living in the moment but waiting for the next. And add that to your big heart and some who pays attention...that someone will be able to figure it out." She rubbed Peter's knee with her fingertips; something she'd always do when he got anxious. "In order to protect your identity, Peter, you need to pick and choose where to be. There are _two-million_ people in Queens. You can't save all of them. And just because you weren't there, doesn't mean it’s your fault that it didn't turn out well.” Peter gave a slight nod after a lapse.

“What do I do about Michelle?" He asked, his voice raspy.

"It depends. Has she given a reason for you to think she can't be trusted?”

"I mean, we study together a lot...by the number of times I've bailed on her, if anything, it's the other way around.”

“Well then, you think from there. Sounds to me she keeps to herself, though, Peter. If we’re talking about Michelle Jones.” And with that, Aunt May retreated to the kitchen.

 

\--

 

It was another week until Spider-Man returned back to the streets. Meaning, five days filled with unreadable glances and telling nicknames handed to by MJ-dearest. It put him on edge, more so or not, but he learned that living like he did before the radioactive-spider event would be the best bet at hiding.

But the seventh night was met with boredom; Peter was rearranging his figures when q scream ran through his ears.

Of course, if it was heard from Peter's window, it must've been close. And in that effect, it _would_ be his fault if there was a deficient outcome. He found himself in the suit that night. Turns out the scream was from a woman who was being dragged into an alleyway by masked figures; after getting her to safety, Peter’s patrol sense tingled, full from days without being put to use. And so the next night he hung out on the roof of his building, ready if anything ensued.

The following, he started moving across different rooftops; traveling to more neighbors. Peter returned to his room to find a plate of cookies waiting for him.

Over the next two weeks, the craving to simply use his powers during the school day slowly started to find its ways back to him. MJ’s comments died down. And the more he thought about it, the whole thing was just paranoia. How _would_ she know, anyway?

After days of traveling through the same neighborhoods, Peter started to want to explore - maybe farther into the city or the suburban areas.

At first, the city was cool. So many high buildings; so many places to attach his web, so much more people. The youtube videos started to increase.

And then, one day, he was in a part of Queens he'd never delve into. But it had wide alleyways which were perfect to simply fool around in between. That is, that's what he thought.

\----

Personally, MJ loved her neighborhood. Just two blocks from her family's apartment was a used book store, which was coincidentally next to a cafe. The alleyways were wide enough for her to walk through without looking suspicious, and they were pretty well lit, which was probably the reason for the low crime rate on the main street.

Nevertheless, she saw why people didn't like it. The deteriorating brick walls that she saw as aesthetic may be a problem in another person's eyes; maybe a mom or parent. But once the bricks fall out, there's cement beneath. If it's just for decoration, why fret?

But _then_ , well, maybe they had a point. Although, Spandex-Man flying into a dumpster, a brick latched onto the web not close behind...maybe not exactly.

She wanted to take a short cut. She actually had to run in gym that afternoon, and damn any extra physical exercise after the fact. So instead of going all the way around the block, she went through an alley. Although, how much she started laughing after seeing a blur of blue and red with a cry of ‘ _oh shit’_ may just make up for it. On the inside. On the outside - she was annoyed as _hell._

“Have you been _following me?_ " She hurried over to the dumpster, raging. Looking over, she found a groaning Spandex-Man, his mask slightly ridden up to show a white sliver of his neck. In response, she got a grouse. MJ dropped her hands to her side. Without even thinking, she commanded with a nod of her head, “Get up, Parker.”

Miraculously, it seemed Spandex-Man was no longer in pain. He looked at her - or those creepy _eyes_ did, anyway, and started to shake his head.

“No, no, I uh -" He started to stand. "I think you have me confused for - with someone…” and then they were face to face; his mask eye things big and her face palpable. “Else.”

“Save your breath, Peter. And get out of that dumpster - it's gross.” A little shaky, he jumped over the rim to land facing her.

“Really, I think you're _totally_ in the wrong head right now. You see, I don't even _know_ a Peter -”

“God, do you ever _shut up?_ ”

“Maybe your friend Peter does, but I - I don-” MJ grabbed the rim of his mask and pulled it over his head -surprisingly easily.

Underneath was surely Peter, looking all out-of-sorts overall. His hair tasseled, ears pink, the surprise and terror mixed with his countenance and glazed eyes.

"If you don't want that to happen any more than this time, I'd suggest some adhesive or something," She duly suggested. Peter looked at her - searched her face.

“MJ… this is… this is  _not_ what it looks like,” Peter exclaimed. “Like, at _all.”_

Michelle showed an amused smile at the act. “Peter, I know. Already knew." She could've sworn he got pale with disappointment.

“B - but _how_?" She let single laugh go through her body, but it didn’t escape.

"I mean, just the obvious. But the videos just proved it," She shrugged.

“The _videos?_ You mean, you knew by _youtube?”_

“Well no, doofus. I don't waste my time watching that bullshit. But anyone who was as logically inclined as me would easily be able to, anyway." She rolled her eyes. Across from her, although now more confused than surprised, still held fright. "I mean from your laptop.” And then his eyebrows closed together.

“My _laptop?!”_  Annoyance lined his voice now. “You hacked my laptop?!”

“Well, it was unlocked -”

"It doesn't matter! Don’t look through other people's stuff!”

“Do you think I _wanted_ to?" She replied, a little vexed now, looking back to the night where she put in time trying to figure out who left their laptop irresponsibly. “Trust me, having to go through your laptop because you were so irresponsible to not only not put a _name_ on your computer but _forget it_ was _not_ how I was planning my Monday night. It was _your fault_ that I had to search through your ‘forbidden videos’ for identification!” at that, Peter ran a hand over his face. He remembered.

“Look, I'm sorry,” Michelle crossed her arms. "I forgot all about forgetting my laptop at the meeting.”

“Well," She started, her arms melting from their crossed position. “At least they were amusing. I didn't think it was humanly possible for you to get dorkier than you are in school.”

Peter smiled, a chuckle leaving him. “Well, I _am_ not technically human. Yanno," He gestured to the stupid spandex - Michelle almost rolled her eyes. “Man-spider...thing. May leave some room.” Although it was the cockiest thing she’d ever heard him say, MJ smiled. She thought about something while looking at him -

“Do you really call your dad, _Happy?_ ” Peter started to bite his cheek to hide the smile.

“Nah, he's my… supervisor, I guess. But not my dad.”

“Mm,” Michelle responded.

“Hey, but -” Peter's jaw clenched, and suddenly it looked like they were back to a serious aspect. “Do you think you can - you know… _not_ tell anyone?” Michelle lowered her brows, swiping a fallen hair to the back of her head. “This...thing is kinda only between Mr. Stark, Happy,  Ned and Aunt May...and half of those people aren't even supposed to know, either - can it stay that way?”

“Parker, I can't forget what I saw or notice -”

“No, no," He laughed at her fake confusion. “Just - can you not tell anyone? Keep it - to yourself?" She stared at him hard - mostly to freak him out, pretending to make up her mind.

“Alright." She nodded. "I guess that can work, yeah.”

“ _Thank you_ ." He left out a breath of relief. “You have no idea how paranoid I was, thinking you knew, _how_  you knew -”

“Pete," She started. "I was only messing with you. If there was a reason no one knew, it wouldn't be cool to go around telling people.”

Peter looked at MJ for a second. She handed him back his mask. “Thank you, again, MJ. I just don't want this to happen again -”

“You know it will, Peter." He looked at her in confusion. “There are seven billion people in this world. Eventually,  more than five  people will figure it out that Spandex-Man isn't just Spandex-Man.”

"I - I’m sorry, _Spandex-Man?_ ” MJ smiled.

“Suits it better, in my taste.” They both laughed, maybe Peter more than the girl across from him, but that's okay. “Anyways, you just need to be more careful this time around.”

“As opposed to...what other times, exactly?”

“Well, Parker, you see; no one has enough common sense to figure this out beside me. So starting now, you're a blank slate. Everyone who was suspicious knows. So you try again. This time, more careful.”

“How do I start being more careful, then?” His smirk and playful tone told her something. She started taking steps back.

“Start,” as he realized she had started to walk away, Peter began to prep his mask to be re-applied. “By putting your name on things, Peter Parker.” and then she turned around, only to hear the sound the web made as it attached to a nearby wall. A flash of red and blue swung in front of her, disappearing around the corner, presumably onto a rooftop.  She could picture Peter Parker's face perfectly now; his ears leaving a dent on each side, his nose, in which the mask perfect curved over, his smile against the fabric, the same one that reached his eyes every day. MJ mirrored the picture conjured in her unique head, the echo of her shoes splashed in the puddles beneath her, and grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thats the end:((
> 
> ...of the first book!
> 
> I decided that writing this was so much fun - it only took me about two days, and everything came to me so easily.
> 
> This fandom is so supportive when it comes to its writers and staying in it would be excellent. I have so many ideas for these two, and until today I didn't know how to get everything in. so my solution; each idea will be part of the series, in chronological order. i have no idea how many books there will be, but i believe its the easiest way for me to keep up with writing, too. im a busy person and time escape me with the ideas following. therefore, short stories like this, where i stay interested, will be fun to do in spare time. i cant wait!
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed the first part - pleaase feel free to suggest what you may want to see; in the series or not!
> 
>  
> 
> DROP SOME PROMPTS IN MY TUMBLR BOX @ THESAVIORJONES!!

**Author's Note:**

> hey, readers! thank you a lot for taking the time to read this, I hope it wasn't wasted! this is my first work in the fandom, bound to be followed by countless more. I love this MJ and Peter dynamic more than any other version.
> 
> Keep this in mind; 
> 
> -I am well aware Happy is NOT Peter's father, and that will be addressed in the next part.
> 
> -the next part will hopefully be up by this time in twenty-four hours and will consist of MJ actually addressing her discovery to Peter. it will be in his POV
> 
> That's it for this part! please leave love and reviews if I deserve it, so ill be able to know what this fandom will want when it comes to writing fanfic. i olan to write plenty in the future, but i want it as enjoyable for readers as for myself.


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